Page 33 of Nauti Dreams (Nauti 3)

He was so wicked. A rogue. She had called him that once, and he had laughed and winked as he agreed with her.

“Does just wanting make it all right?” she whispered, catching his wrists as his hands settled on her hips. “Wanting isn’t always enough, Natches. ”

“It’ll be enough for tonight. ” There was no plea in his words, just pure demand. “I’m not asking for forever, Chaya. I wouldn’t dare. ”

And before she could question the angry tone of those last words, he was kissing her. His lips covered hers, his tongue pushed between them, and he was taking what he wanted. There was no question of giving it to him, because he didn’t ask for a damned thing.

This wasn’t the teasing seducer she had known five years before. This was a conqueror. This was a man who refused to ask. He knew what he wanted, and God help her, he seemed to know exactly what she needed, too.

Chaya felt the world tilt around her; she could have sworn the ground shook. Whatever it was, it was Natches holding her, his lips on hers, his muttered, hungry moan vibrating against her lips as his mouth slanted across them and his tongue tempted and teased hers into an excited, erotic duel.

It was fire and lightning, this kiss. It was being awakened from a lifetime of nightmares and finally given light. It was like being reborn.

Chaya heard herself cry out, felt her arms latching around his neck, her body arching to him, needing more. More contact. More touch. Oh God, she couldn’t get enough of him, and the need would destroy her. This need rocked her to her very core, to the center of that lonely, almost broken, spirit that had sent her running before. Because she couldn’t face losing anyone else. She couldn’t face losing Natches, too.

She trembled as she felt his hands caressing her, running along her back, pushing beneath her top and touching bare flesh. He moved against her, pressing his thigh between hers, rocking her against him.

She felt the delicate, sensitive flesh between her thighs flame. Wicked, greedy wildfire swept through her, and nothing mattered but more. More of his kiss. If she didn’t get more of his kiss, she would lose her mind from the need. More of his touch. She wanted to be naked in his arms. Naked and shuddering and surrounded by Natches. Surrounding him. Burning as she only burned in her dreams.

“There, Chay. ” He pulled her closer, one hand on her butt, forcing her to ride the hard muscle of his thigh as she ground herself against him. “See how good it is, baby? Remember how hot it is?”

Oh yes, she remembered. She remembered begging him for more, screaming for more. The memories were hazy because the pain had been overwhelming that night. But she remembered enough to know why she had ached in the darkness of the night after she’d left Iraq. She remembered enough to know that, once he took her, she was never going to be the same again.

No more sleepwalking. She had existed the past five years, forcing herself through each day, refusing to acknowledge that a part of her, that hidden, feminine core of her, was right here. In Natches’s arms.

“Natches, let me breathe. Let me think,” she gasped as his lips slid from hers—lazy, confident—and nibbled at her jawline. Her nerve endings rose up in a crescendo

of pleasure.

“No thinking allowed. ” The rasp of his day-old beard sent shards of the most incredible pleasure washing through her body. “Now, let’s get these damned clothes off. ”

It was sexy. It was erotic. It was the most gentle act of sexual intensity that she could have imagined. He pulled her arms from around his neck, then, staring down at her, his forest green eyes darkening to moss, his palms touching her flesh along the way, he slid her blazer from her shoulders and over her arms.

Chaya stared up at him, unable to break the contact, the connection. He had done that before, she remembered. Stared at her, watched her eyes as he undressed her.

“This isn’t a good idea. ” She tried to protest, but it sounded more like an invitation. It was an invitation. Everyone knew Natches did anything anyone else considered a bad idea. And the more erotic, the more wicked, that bad idea was, the faster he was there.

“Who needs good ideas? Come here, baby. Let me see those pretty breasts just one more time. Lift your arms for me. ” He pulled the hem of her shirt up and over her head, off her arms. It dropped to the floor as a hungry growl left his lips and long, thick lashes feathered over his eyes.

When he looked at her like that, she melted. Then she felt his hands at the belt of her jeans.

She was naked from the waist up, or practically naked, because the bra she wore didn’t hide much from view.

“Natches, I don’t think I can stand through this. ”

And she didn’t. Her knees were weakening. She could feel her legs turning to mush, right along with her objections. This was Natches. Wicked, erotic Natches. His kisses were a flame that burned to the icy core of her. His touch was an inferno, warming her from the inside out.

And she needed to be warm. Just for a little while. She needed to be warmed by him, just one more time.

As his lips moved over her neck, her arms found strength. As his hands pushed beneath the waist of her jeans, she struggled against him, pushing at his arms.

“Easy, Chay. ”

“Not easy. ” She nipped at his neck, clearly surprising him as she tugged at his T-shirt. She wanted him bare as well. She wanted to feel him against her, bare flesh to bare flesh. She needed it.

He whipped the shirt from his body and tossed it aside as her hands went to his belt. Shaking, uncertain, her fingers pulled and tugged at it.

“There you go, Chay. Get naughty for me. ”

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